Déjà Vu
by DatNookieThang
Summary: "I got a man who'll kill for me." Cookie begins to realize that Malcolm and Lucious have more in common than she's comfortable with. Takes place right after 110 (Sins of the Father). An overhauled multi-chapter story that has been redone into a one-shot.
_Note: This was a story that was originally in four chapters. It was a part of a group of stories that have since been deleted. Because the repost wouldn't make sense without the other missing stories, this fic was overhauled dramatically. Since I'm re-watching season one and I'm in a Mookie mood, I thought what was left was well enough to stand on its own._

* * *

" _Come on, baby. I got you. Alright? Let's get some air. I got you."_

The air was growing cooler, but Cookie hadn't moved from the spot where Malcolm had taken her. From the time they stepped outside to the time they heard the ambulance sirens, Malcolm held Cookie in a firm embrace, his arms wrapped around him from behind. His suit jacket was still wrapped around her body. Cookie hadn't been cold at the time he offered it, but she was glad that she had it now. She couldn't stop shaking. The coat allowed Cookie to pretend that she was trembling because of the night air.

Malcolm briefly made a statement to the police - he would be required to make a formal statement the next day - and assured Lucious that he would get Cookie home safely. Why Lucious said nothing about the arrangement, Cookie didn't know. Nor did he make a mention that Malcolm had taken Cookie right out of his arms and stayed outside with her for nearly half an hour. Lucious hadn't even noticed that Cookie was wearing Malcolm's coat. There was a time when Lucious would've attacked Malcolm for a whole lot less.

Cookie and Malcolm rode in silence all the way to the first red light. At this standstill, Cookie opened her eyes and studied Malcolm's profile in this deep shade of red. Naturally, Cookie's eyes first landed on Malcolm's full, thick lips. It was just that morning that Cookie had first tasted Malcolm's mouth upon her own, and ever since then, Cookie wondered what they would feel like on other parts of her body.

Cookie took in Malcolm's chiseled jawline, his broad nose and those long, gorgeous eyelashes – such a waste on a man, those lashes! All of these beautiful features were enhanced by ebony skin so dark and smooth that Cookie had to reach out and touch it, cupping his chin. Malcolm took Cookie's hand and kissed the back of it. "Say it," Malcolm encouraged, wanting to get the conversation out of the way.

"Say what?"

"What we both know you're thinking."

Cookie didn't know why it bothered her so much. Maybe because she could still feel Reg's arms across her neck, cutting off her air. "You just shot him, Malcolm. You didn't say anything. Not _'freeze'_ or _'drop your weapon…'_ " That gunshot went off in her head again. "You didn't even give him the chance to surrender. You just shot him."

"He had a gun to your head, Cookie," Malcolm said evenly. "I did what I had to do."

"Did you really?" Had it been anybody in that room _but_ Cookie who had a gun to his or her head, Cookie knew that Malcolm could have – _would_ have – talked Reg into lowering his gun. The man's gift was de-escalation. It was why he was always the leader of the pack or the head of the company. Malcolm could have calmed Reg down if he really wanted to.

"I had a clean shot, so I took it." At the next red light, Malcolm turned sideways and took both of Cookie's hands in his. "I wasn't going to take a chance that I would lose you. Not when I just got you.

When Cookie was around 18, a neighbor witnessed one of Lucious's pushers trapped Cookie in an alley while she was taking out the trash. Lucious never asked Cookie what happened, not that it mattered. Cookie never even got the opportunity to deny what had been seen, for Lucious shot T-Ray in broad daylight before he even came home. That night they made love for so long and in so many different ways that Cookie was pretty sure they conceived Jamal that night. _I got a man who'll kill for me,_ Cookie thought smugly as she fell asleep in her husband's arms.

Maybe it was because Cookie was older or because she saw what Lucious had eventually become. But tonight, Cookie didn't feel smug or sexy. And seeing how nonchalant Malcolm was acting at the moment, it felt a little too familiar. With dread, Cookie realized that she was now in the _exact_ same situation with Malcolm as she had been with Lucious 25 years ago: _I got a man who'll kill for me._

Cookie took her hand back from Malcolm and pulled his coat tighter around her body, trying not to shake so much. But it was Malcolm's job to study things. He knew why she was so scared. Cookie knew that Malcolm knew, but she didn't know what to do about it. Lucious was a killer. Malcolm was a killer. So why did Cookie feel so uneasy?

* * *

Cookie's apartment was large, but it only had three rooms, each with its own bathroom. One was Cookie's master bedroom, and there was a guest room that was full of boxes because Cookie spent every spare moment of her time in the third room. Lola's room. Or what _was_ Lola's room, back when she had a granddaughter.

The sprinkling of rain had become a full blown downpour by the time Malcolm drove Cookie to her apartment. "Do you want me to stay with you tonight?" Malcolm asked, parking his truck in the parking lot. "I always keep an overnight bag packed in case of emergencies. And I can let myself out as soon as you go to sleep."

"Why in the world do you keep an overnight bag packed?" Cookie asked, unbuckling herself.

"Old habit. When you have three sisters and none of them could pick men worth a damn, you do a lot of driving in the middle of the night."

"I'll be fine," Cookie assured Malcolm. That assurance was shot to hell when Cookie couldn't turn on her light fast enough." Cookie was so out of sorts that Malcolm held her hand while they walked back to his truck, then back upstairs to Cookie's apartment.

While Malcolm showered and shaved in the guest bathroom, Cookie wandered into what used to be her granddaughter's room. The claw hammer that Cookie had left on the dresser that afternoon felt nice and heavy in her hand. It could smash through wood. Shatter glass. Destroy drywall. Split a skull in two, if need be. And Cookie knew exactly whose skull she wanted to split.

All Cookie had ever wanted was a little girl. Even when Cookie was out on bail and had 30 years hanging over her head, she and Lucious were trying to get pregnant. Now she was standing in a room with over half a million dollars' worth of merchandise for Lucious's daughter. Cookie couldn't help but laugh. Lucious – whose favorite expression from the day Andre was born had been _"go ask ya mama"_ – had a daughter and Cookie didn't. The more Cookie tried to stop laughing, the more she couldn't. _Lucious has a little girl and I don't._

"Give me the hammer, Cookie."

For the second time that night, Cookie heard Malcolm before she saw him. Malcolm had been brushing his teeth when he heard Cookie's maniacal laughter. "You can have this furniture and these clothes sent to wherever Olivia is taking Lola," Malcolm reminded Cookie gently. "I'm sure a single mother making a new start in life could use these things. Or you can donate it somewhere. But don't destroy it all. It won't do any good."

Cookie didn't even realize she had a hammer in her hand. The last thing she remembered was handing Malcolm some towels to dry off with. But Cookie didn't argue with Malcolm, who tossed the hammer on a high bookshelf so that neither of them could it reach without a chair or a ladder. Numb, Cookie slumped against the wall and slid down to the floor. "It's okay, Cookie." Malcolm soothed, sitting down beside her. "I got you, baby. _I got you._ You don't have to go through this alone."

Cookie had lost Andre to madness. Missed most of Jamal's life. Barely knew Hakeem. But the fact that Lucious had a daughter that wasn't Cookie's daughter was more than she could stand. With Malcolm's arms around her, Cookie let out a long, anguished scream, then cried so hard that she began to hyperventilate. How much more could Cookie lose? Was she safer in prison than she was on the outside?

Malcolm had to help Cookie to her feet. "Hold your arms over your head. Now breathe. Slowly. There you go." Malcolm continued to talk to her softly as he guided Cookie out of her hallway and into her bedroom. "You're not alone, Cookie. I'm here for you as long as you need me. Okay?"

"Okay." The tangy sweetness of mint and mouthwash from Malcolm's kisses mingled with the salt from Cookie's tears. Cookie wrapped her arms around Malcolm's neck and pulled Malcolm down to her bed as their kiss grew deeper and more passionate. Even in the midst of all this heartbreak and sorrow, Cookie realized that she wanted nothing more at that moment than for Malcolm to be inside of her. She needed this – needed _him_ \- so badly that she couldn't think straight. Cookie didn't want to think straight. She didn't want to think at all. _Take these cookies. Take 'em. I won't tell._

"Wait…Cookie…"

Cookie didn't want to wait, either. Cookie wanted Malcolm to make the gunshots and scary birds to go away. She wanted to Malcolm to make Lola's laughter and the fear in Lucious's eyes go away. Cookie wrapped her legs around Malcolm's waist. Her hands reached for the bottom of his shirt to pull it over his head. For some reason, it wouldn't give.

"Cookie, wait. _Stop._ " Malcolm broke Cookie's leg lock and backed away from her so fast that his back hit Cookie's dresser. "We can't do this," he announced.

"What? Why?" Cookie sat up as Malcolm pulled his shirt back down.

"You're too upset. I'm sorry." Malcolm shook his head at the beautiful, willing woman lying on the bed. " _Damn_ , I'm sorry." He actually turned his back to her, as if looking at Cookie for too long could change his mind.

Of _course_ Cookie was upset. She'd just had a gun to her head. A man had just been killed to protect her life. And her granddaughter was Lucious's daughter. "Please, Malcolm. I need this," Cookie insisted, rising from the bed. "I need you…"

Cookie understood when Malcolm didn't have sex with her when she was drunk. And she understood why Malcolm wouldn't have sex with Cookie in her office. He claimed it was because he didn't have a condom with him, but Cookie knew better, just like she knew that Malcolm was going to reject her for the second time that day. _I'm sorry._ Where had Cookie heard that before?

" _Make love to me, Lucious. Please."_

Malcolm was wearing the exact same expression Lucious wore over 30 years ago, the night she'd offered herself to Lucious on her 14th birthday. They were at a house party, and after Candace's boyfriend got a little too close to her one day while she wasn't home, Cookie wanted to lose her virginity on her own terms. She'd known Lucious for about a month then. He, too, had turned her down that night, saying that it wasn't right and he wanted their first time to…

"…be different. Not like this. Cookie, I didn't offer to stay over to have sex with you. I want to make sure you make it through the night okay." Unbeknownst to Cookie, there was a time in Malcolm's not-too-distant past when he would've had her back up against the wall, taking up some grateful woman's offer without a second thought. But Cookie…something about Cookie Lyon was different. Just like she was too special to be bent over an office desk in the middle of the day, she was too special to be taken advantage of this way. Guarding Cookie had been an honor; no reciprocation was needed.

Meanwhile, Cookie reeled at being rejected for the second time in less than 24 hours. "Are you serious, Malcolm? What are you, a Boy Scout?" Cookie's voice grew hard and nasty. "Are you saving it for marriage? Can you even get it up?"

"No. I can't." The SEAL in Malcolm was creeping into his voice. "I'm sorry that my killing a man tonight messed up your sex life, but I have more on my mind than you. And I was an Eagle Scout, since you asked." He threw up a sloppy Boy Scout salute that might as well have been a middle finger. "Anything else?"

After all Cookie had been through – losing Lola, having her life threatened, being rejected by Malcolm for a third time, if one included the time she was drunk – this was just too much to take. "Get out."

"Really, Cookie?" Malcolm would have been less stunned if Cookie had struck him with the hammer. "After everything that's happened, you're kicking me out in the middle of the night in a thunderstorm because I _won't_ have sex with you?"

"I said get out." Cookie swung her legs over the bed and stood to her feet. Tiny fireworks were going off in her head. "Get _out_." Cookie slammed her palms into Malcolm's chest. A good shove would've sent Lucious flying, but Malcolm was as rooted as a tree trunk. Cookie was rewarded with sharp pains that shot up both her wrists, which made her even angrier. "Get _out_ , Malcolm."

"Calm down, Cookie." Malcolm blocked Cookie's next attempt to push him. That made Cookie try again, only harder. Those tiny fireworks in Cookie's head turned into nuclear bombs, and her hands turned into fists. "Get out!" she screamed. A fist glanced off Malcolm's head, and he dodged a second blow.

There wouldn't be a third. Before Cookie could pull her fist back, Malcolm stepped forward and whipped her around, swept Cookie's legs out from underneath her, and sent them both crashing to the ground. "Let me go!" Cookie screamed as Malcolm secured a strong seatbelt hold across her chest. Cookie couldn't even get to her feet, much less do any damage. Malcolm had left her enough space to breathe, but not much more than that. "Let go of me, motherfucker!"

"Promise me that you won't attack me when I let you go." Malcolm sounded strangely calm, as if he was attacked by wild-eyed women every day of his life. Cookie was no more of a threat to Malcolm than if she'd been a newborn kitten.

"Fuck you! _Fuck you, Malcolm!"_ Cookie tried to throw elbows to Malcolm's head, which caused him to laugh. She looked like a chicken with two wounded wings. "Give me your word that you won't hurt me," Malcolm repeated. "Then I'll let you go."

"Nigga, this is _my house!_ You can't tell me what to do in _my house!"_

"Fine," Malcolm said calmly. "We'll stay just like this until I'm safe from you."

 _Safe from me? What kind of punk shit is that?_ Cookie would take swings at Lucious all the time, and Lucious would always restrain her, but that was just typical of the girls around her way. You got mad and you swung at your man and if he hit you back, you called your brothers or your cousins and if he didn't, then he was the one you got to stick around. It was love, ghetto style. Half the time, they had sex when it was all over. _"I'm sorry, Daddy!"_ she would scream time and time again while Lucious took her from behind, reminding her that _he_ was the man in their relationship and she'd better remember that shit. Not that Lucious would hurt Cookie if she didn't. It was just the whole putting-her-in-check thing that made Cookie so hot.

Malcolm wasn't ghetto and he wasn't in love, and he wasn't one for Cookie's little _"who-gon-check-me-boo"_ street games. He was, however, a man who could snap Cookie's windpipe in a heartbeat. Lucious was a killer and Malcolm was a killer, but Malcolm was a government-sanctioned killer. Cookie could push Lucious to the edge and wind up with little more than a stinging ass for her trouble. But Malcolm? If Cookie pushed Malcolm too far, would they ever find her body?

"Cookie," Malcolm repeated. He could hear her heart pounding, and it hurt Malcolm to think that she was scared of him. And for what - because he didn't want to be on the receiving end of her bullshit? Why was she shaking so badly? "Cookie, I will never hurt you. _Never_." He dared to kiss Cookie on the cheek, but she jerked her head away from him. _She doesn't believe me,_ Malcolm thought miserably, but he still wouldn't let Cookie go, not until he explained his side of things. "I saw too much as a SEAL to think that a woman can't be dangerous. Don't _ever_ do this again and think that we can be together."

At that moment, Cookie didn't want to be together with Malcolm on the same planet. But Cookie was no fool. When Malcolm prompted her to promise that she wouldn't hit him anymore, she did. Cookie felt Malcolm hesitate before he released Cookie from his iron grip. Even though Malcolm had only hurt her pride, Cookie still felt like she'd been attacked.

Cookie rose from the floor on shaky legs and stared down at Malcolm. Malcolm raised an eyebrow and sat back, waiting to see what Cookie would do next. There was no telling how he would stop another round of Hurricane Cookie, but Cookie knew that he would. Worse, Malcolm would never respect her again if she reneged on her promise to leave him alone. Cookie had given her word. Now, no matter how humiliated she was, she had to keep it.

"I'm going to take a bath," Cookie mumbled, too ashamed of her behavior and her thought to meet Malcolm's eyes. Silently, Cookie stepped over a still-sitting Malcolm and locked herself in her bathroom, waiting until the water in her bathtub was running before she started to cry. No day – not the day she was sentenced to prison or the day her divorce papers came in the mail or any other day in her life – had ever been as cruel as this one.

* * *

Cookie had assumed that Malcolm had left her apartment while she was running her bath, so the knock on her bathroom door nearly an hour later scared her to death. "Go home, Malcolm," she said dully.

"I'll go if you really want me to." Even through the door, Cookie could hear the hurt in his voice. "But I need to know that you're okay before I go."

Why couldn't he just cuss her out or get fed up and leave, like any other man would have? "I'm fine, Malcolm. Go home." Even with the way Cookie had treated him, Malcolm was still here to comfort her through the night. It made Cookie feel even worse than she already did.

"Cookie, please don't make me come in there." Malcolm's voice was still polite, but there was an edge in it now. "Come talk to me like a woman. Give me that respect."

Malcolm didn't need to use his hands to knock Cookie out. His words were just as hard-hitting. Fresh tears welled up in Cookie's eyes all over again. _Respect_. Cookie had insulted his manhood, put her hands on him and now was ignoring him. There were no words to describe how ashamed she felt.

Malcolm cracked a smile when Cookie finally opened her bathroom door, red-eyed and wrapped in terry cloth. The smoothness of her face contrasted with the shriveled skin on her still-damp hands. Even Cookie's robe and bedroom slippers were spotted. Naturally, none of prints came close to matching. Topping off this all-jungle-all-the-time motif was a hair bonnet with a print that Malcolm couldn't even place.

"Look, Cookie," Malcolm said gently. As sympathetic as he was toward Cookie's plight, there was still unfinished business between them. "I'm tired. _You're_ tired. So say you're sorry for hitting me, and I'll say I'm sorry for scaring you."

Cookie didn't know how she was going to apologize, just she needed to. Malcolm's gracious invitation had given her an opening, and Cookie grabbed it – and him – with both arms. "You don't have anything to apologize for, Malcolm. I was wrong," she murmured into his chest while he held her. "I don't even know why I was so mad at you when you've been so good to me." Tears streamed down Cookie's face while she spoke. "What happened back there…that's not me, Malcolm. I'm sorry. I'm _so_ sorry."

"I know you are, Cookie. And I'm sorry that I laughed at you. I didn't mean to. You know how you get when you're so tired that you can't really think straight?"

"All the time. Oh, and I'm sorry that I called you a virgin," Cookie added with a sheepish grin.

"Yeah, let's talk about that." With the animosity between them gone, Malcolm smiled as Cookie led him to her king-sized bed. "I'm nobody's virgin, Cookie Lyon. And we _damn_ sure don't have to be married to have sex. But you have to be happy, and you have to be sober, and you have to be free in your own place." Malcolm cupped Cookie's chin. "Can you say you're all of those things right now?"

Cookie poked her lips out in a way that was as sexy as it was adorable. "Is two out of three okay?" she asked, sliding her hands up and down Malcolm's chest.

"Two out of three gets you an extremely tired cuddle buddy with a lot on his mind and a long day tomorrow. It's the best I can do, babe."

"Good enough." Deep down, Cookie didn't really want to have sex with Malcolm as much as she felt like she owed it to him. A part of her still felt that way, but Malcolm's proposal sounded like a much better idea. "Can we go to bed now?"

"We can definitely go to bed now. What time is it?"

"Almost midnight," Cookie said as Malcolm removed his watch, setting it on Cookie's nightstand. "You planning on sleeping with that tiger cub on your head all night?" he asked, wrapping his arms around Cookie after she switched her lamp off.

"Uh, yes. I am! This hair is expensive." Cookie tucked her head under Malcolm's chin. Malcolm hated cuddling. It made him feel claustrophobic. But tonight, Cookie's body wound tightly against Malcolm's felt like heaven. "Good night, Malcolm. Thank you for staying with me, and…for everything. I don't know how I would have made it through this night without you."

"I'm happy to be here for you, Cookie. You don't owe me anything. Remember that, Cookie." Malcolm gave Cookie's shoulder a squeeze for emphasis.

"I will."

As tired as they were, and even with the rain coming down, neither Malcolm nor Cookie could fall asleep. "Cookie, do you think there's such a thing as being too tired to sleep?" Malcolm asked her after a couple of minutes.

"I have no idea," Cookie yawned. "I thought I'd be knocked out by now, but I'm still up." They were quiet again for a spell, then Cookie spoke up. "Malcolm. Is it strange that I feel really happy right now, being here with you? Or maybe happy isn't the right word. More like..."

"Peaceful?" Malcolm suggested sleepily.

"Yeah, peaceful." Peaceful, secure, comforted...it all came back to happy. It was just a little piece of happiness compared to everything she had lost in such a short time, but Cookie would take whatever she could get.

* * *

The knocking came at around four in the morning. "Probably somebody drunk," Malcolm suggested. "Go back to sleep."

"Already ahead of you." But the knocking didn't go away. Instead, it grew louder and more urgent, refusing to be ignored. Then the doorbell started to ring. Only one person would have the nerve to interrupt Cookie at this time of night. "Ignore him, Cookie." Malcolm wrapped his arms around Cookie's waist and kissed the tattoo on the nape of her neck. "Security is completely redone. He can't get in here."

"I can't." Cookie flipped on the light and reached for her robe. "If I do, he'll know I'm hiding something. Plus he'll wake up the whole building."

Malcolm rolled over on his back, admiring the view once again. "You want me to come out there with you?"

"You got a death wish, boy?" Malcolm at her door at a quarter to four in the morning? Lucious would lose his mind. "Just stay in here. I got this."

"Holler if you need me." Malcolm hoped this meeting wouldn't last for too long. Lucious had just woken Malcolm from a good-ass sleep, and Malcolm was ready to go right back to sleep. _Christ, what kind of asshole stops by at four in the morning?_

Cookie knew exactly what kind of asshole stopped by at four in the morning. "What do you want, Lucious?" she asked wearily, not even bothering to look into the peephole before opening the door.

"S'up, Cookie." Reeking of weed and barely able to stand up straight, Lucious leaned against the doorjamb. "Can I come in?"

"No." There was nothing Lucious could say that could possibly make things better. _I put the baby in her._ Lucious had a little girl and she didn't. "I'll listen to your excuses tomorrow."

"Whatchu doin' that you can't let me in?" Lucious asked lightheartedly.

"What do you think I was doing at four in the morning, Lucious?"

"Let me stay with you," Lucious offered. "Let me hold you tonight."

Cookie had to bite her lip before she threw it in Lucious's face that she already had a man holding her tonight. Now she could smell the alcohol on his breath along with the weed. "You didn't drive over here, did you?"

Lucious flashed Cookie what he thought was a charming smile. It made Cookie's skin crawl. "If I say yes, will you let me in?"

"No." Cookie blocked the doorway with her body to underscore her point. "I'll call you a cab."

"Can I sleep over here tonight? It's raining, you know. It's raining hard."

"You can take your ass home so I can go back to sleep."

"Cookie, I just need to talk to you for a minute. Lemme in, baby." Lucious tried to nudge Cookie to the side.

"I said _no_ , Lucious," Cookie said, holding her ground. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Hell, I'll call you a cab right now. But you need to wait downstairs."

Lucious stared at Cookie for the longest time. "Why you whisperin', Cook?" he asked suspiciously.

What was Lucious trying to imply? "I'm whispering because it's four o'clock in the damn morning and you're out in my hallway," Cookie snapped.

"Then let me in and we won't have this problem," Lucious wheedled.

"No!" Lucious tried to muscle his way past, which only infuriated Cookie. "Get out, Lucious! You're drunk and you're high, and I don't want to see you tonight!"

"Why not? You know how good I make you feel, baby..." Lucious leaned in to try to hug Cookie, but Cookie shoved him away. After everything that had happened...after the way he had ripped her heart into pieces...Lucious had the nerve to come over looking for pussy? "Stop it, Lucious! _Stop!"_

"Who's here with you, Cookie?" Lucious stepped closer. "Why you whisperin'? Huh?" Cookie began to back up. "Who you got in here with you, Cookie?" Lucious demanded, and Cookie's heart began to race. If Lucious pushed past her and went into her bedroom, there was no telling how bad things were going to get. Did he remember that Malcolm was the one who brought her home? Cookie didn't know what she wanted Malcolm to do right now. She wanted him to stay out of sight...she wanted him to come out and make Lucious leave her alone...more than anything, she wanted Lucious to take his drunk ass home. "What do you want, Lucious?" Cookie hissed, "What…do…you… _want!?"_

"Cookie, I know I messed up." Lucious looked so pathetic right now. Barely able to stand, eyes bloodshot, clothes wrinkled...had Lucious been crying on the way here, thinking about his little girl? The little girl who was his, but not Cookie's? "Baby, I was just lonely. She was comin' on to me, and I was still needin' you so bad..."

 _This shit again!_ Let Lucious tell the story, every fucked up thing he ever did was because Cookie went to prison. "Don't give me that bullshit, Lucious! I'd been in jail for over 10 years when you slept with your son's wife!"

"But I thought about you every day. I missed you every day. Baby-"

Lucious reached for Cookie to bring her close, pressing his body up against hers, and Cookie wanted to throw up. "Lucious, you keep putting your hands on me and I swear to God-" What would she do? What would Malcolm do? And what was Malcolm doing right now, while Lucious and Cookie's argument became louder and louder?

Mercifully, Cookie was interrupted by the sound of Lucious's phone. "Another one of your baby mamas?" Cookie sneered without thinking.

Lucious smiled. "Why, you jealous?"

"No, she can have your ass."

"Don't worry. You'll always be #1 in my heart." Lucious winked and blew a kiss. "Hello?...what? What's going on?"

Cookie felt her heart drop. "What is it? What's wrong?" Cookie tugged at Lucious's arm. "What is it?"

Lucious waved his hand at Cookie, trying to hear the security agent on the other end. "Okay, I'm on my way." He hung up. "I gotta go."

"What is it?" Cookie demanded again, growing very scared, very fast. "Did something happen?"

"It's okay, Cookie." Lucious sobered up long enough to put Cookie's nerves at ease. "Security's got it all under control. Something about a tripped alarm from outside, but they need me to walk them around this part of the house that they can't get into to check up on some shit. I gotta go."

"Wait! I'm not getting you drive home." Lucious was free to run his head through a pole, but it would be just their luck that he would kill a car full of people and walk away unscathed. Men like Lucious always walked away unscathed.

"My driver's downstairs." Lucious leaned in and kissed Cookie's cheek before she could move back. "Don't worry," he added, smiling tenderly at her. "Everything is gonna be fine. I promise."

Lucious left without looking back, looking as handsome and charming as always. _Damn it!_ Cookie thought, slamming the door behind her. Even now, Lucious acted like Cookie belonged to him. And even now, a part of Cookie's heart wished to God that she still was.

* * *

Judging by Cookie's body language, Malcolm knew better than to talk to Cookie just yet. He waited until she washed her face once, twice, three times before she came back to bed. "Are you okay?" he asked as Cookie took her place back in Malcolm's arms. "Lucious didn't try hurt you, did he?"

"No." Cookie hadn't been in any danger, but she felt a twinge of annoyance at Malcolm. Certainly he had heard her yelling at Lucious, right? Why didn't come out of her room to make sure she was okay? Sure, she had been the one to tell him not to come outside, but if things had gotten worse., would Malcolm have really just hung out in her bedroom like a punk until Lucious had come in, or was gone, or...

 _Wait_. Lucious was gone. On his own. Something about security...Cookie glanced over at Malcolm, who was as calm as he ever was. "Did you just do that a minute ago?" she asked suspiciously.

"Do what?"

"Make Lucious's phone ring."

"Why would I call Lucious?" Malcolm asked innocently. "I see too much of him as-is."

"Uh-huh." Cookie took Malcolm's hand and pressed the back of it against her lips. How could she have ever doubted Malcolm? Since the day Malcolm came into Cookie's life, he'd never let her down, not once. Now she was beginning to understand Malcolm's ways more. What Cookie thought was unreadable behavior from Malcolm was actually the opposite. He was level-headed, reliably so. Yes, Malcolm had killed for Cookie, as had Lucious. But that didn't make Malcolm a killer. "You always seem to know what to do, Malcolm," Cookie admired. "Thank you."

"Yeah, well, thank Spencer. He's the one having to go all the way out to Lucious's house tonight." The way Malcolm's lips brushed against her ear made Cookie shiver with delight. "You know you're going to have to tell Lucious about us soon, Cookie. I'm not going to barge into his office and stake my claim like some asshole, but I'm not your secret boyfriend. A man wants his lady by his side."

"I know. And I will tell Lucious, Malcolm. Soon." Cookie knew for certain that she wanted nothing more than to be by Malcolm's side, not Lucious's. Not only did Cookie have no reason to be afraid of Malcolm, she was probably safer with Malcolm than she was with anybody else in the world. "Hey...you think Lucious saw your truck?"

"We'll find out tomorrow, won't we?" Their laughter mingled in the air as Cookie and Malcolm drifted off to sleep, dreaming of one another and nobody else.

* * *

Of all the people who should have known Lucious was lying about that damn baby, Cookie should have. Sure, he'd tapped Jamal's wife, but he wasn't that damn kid's father. Or at least he didn't think he was. Lucious hoped he wasn't anyway. She was a cute little thing and Lucious didn't mind raising her, as long as Cookie was there to help him. But Lucious already had enough kids. At least Lola was too young to compete to be head of Empire.

A silver Ford pick-up truck caught Lucious's eye as his driver pulled out of the parking lot. Four doors. Seemed very familiar. _That looks like Malcolm's new truck._ Lucious thought back to Cookie's whispering in her own apartment, her refusal to let Lucious in the door. And Malcolm had been the one to drive her home...

Lucious nearly strained a muscle in his neck as he twisted around to take a second look as his driver pulled away, then relaxed _. Nah, that ain't it._ Malcolm's truck had his mother's name stenciled on the side. Besides, Malcolm wasn't crazy enough to be spending the night with Lucious's ex-wife. _He ain't crazy,_ Lucious thought as he closed his eyes, too drunk to remember that Malcolm's mother's name was stenciled on the passenger's side of his truck, not the driver's side.

END


End file.
